


Make Some Noise

by MagpieWords



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biting, Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, M/M, Rockstar AU, Rough Sex, it's not copyright infringement if it's a parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 09:10:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieWords/pseuds/MagpieWords
Summary: Bucky could happily perform at this festival forever- if only the EDM group across the way would stop stealing his music. If Iron Man wont stop when Bucky asks nicely, he'll have to deal with the problem a little less nicely.





	Make Some Noise

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tony Stark Bingo, square S5: KINK:Hatesex
> 
> I couldn't bring myself to write hatesex in anything other than a super outlandish au. Also, it might be hatesex, but I don't think there's too many consent issues? There's one moment where Tony tells Bucky not to leave a hickey too high on his neck and then Bucky immediately does exactly that. But if you think I need to change the tags, please let me know!
> 
> Also, Tony/Pepper/Rhodey are a couple in this fic, but since they're not the focus of the fic, I didn't tag it. Again, please let me know if I should adjust that. Thanks!
> 
> Bonus points if you can guess what bands the Winter Soldiers and Iron Man are based on.

He thought it would be exhausting, playing for as long as they were scheduled to. Instead, it was just the opposite. Bucky was still roaring to go even when they stepped off the stage to let another band play. This is what success felt like- not the random numbers from record sales or the collection of vintage guitars he was starting. Success was playing to a screaming crowd at the biggest festival of the year. Success was The Winter Soldiers as a headlining band.

“You gonna be okay to go again after dinner?” Steve had downed an entire water bottle the second they piled back into their tour bus. Natasha and Sam mirrored Steve’s concern. Bucky had gone hard for every song in this first set, screaming the lyrics and jumping around the stage with Steve. Maybe if it were any other tour stop, he’d be tired.

Instead, he laughed off the question. “We’re only getting started. I could play this venue forever.” He switched out his guitar though, the instrument looked more rung out than he was.

Sam still looked skeptical but Natasha just crowded next to Bucky on one of the bean bags that littered the back of their bus. “Good, because I want to see if we can debut something I wrote when we were on the way to Nashville a few months back.”

The evening performance was even more thrilling than the afternoon had been. The sun set behind them, the audience had doubled in size. The first night of the festival was in full swing. It was midway through their new song that Bucky heard it. Something didn’t sound right. Over the thunderous drums Natasha beat into submission behind him, over Sam’s thrashing guitar and Steve’s deep bass. Over pounding of their feet on the stage, even above the screaming fans.

Furious Music Fest wasn’t just the biggest event of the year. It was the most ambitious crossover of genres the festival scene had ever dreamed of. Country stars belted out hits while metal bands moshed just two stages over. The Winter Soldiers were the rock representative, given what Bucky had thought to be the biggest stage and the loudest speakers. They were the genre that mattered, after all. But someone was trying to play over them.

Bucky wanted to say he was a connoisseur of many genres. He grew up in the metal scene, and was just as much of a sucker as the next guy for a good bop on the radio. Several different Winter Soldier songs took inspiration from jazz and even classical pieces. But no matter how hard he tried, Bucky just had no respect for idiots that stood on stage, pressed a spacebar, and had the nerve to call themselves “musicians.”

The heavy beat from the stage across the way filtered through their debut song and, though he gave everything he had to the last lyrics Natasha had given him, Bucky could hardly stand to finish the set.

“Thank you!” He shouted into the mic, over the fans and the not-distant-enough baseline. He winked at some twenty-something in the front row and she nearly fainted. “The Winter Soldiers will be here all weekend!”

More cheering, but Bucky was deaf to it. He ducked off the stage, ignoring his bandmate’s questions. His own fans, without another band at this stage, were headed towards the unavoidable thrum of ‘music’ and Bucky followed. As he got closer, lyrics floats about the heavy bass. He knew this song - this wasn’t an EDM song.

And yet, Iron Man was on stage, jumping around to it like he’d written the notes himself. The song had been the pop hit of the summer, peaking in early June. That must have given the ‘remixer’ plenty of time to sink his dirty fingers into it. Words cut in and out of order, the beat starting and stopping and dropping all so chaotically that Bucky wanted to get back on his own stage and just scream again.

Iron Man’s signature faceless mask was surprisingly expressive, even at this distance. The red and gold outline glimmered in the strobe lights, but the black screen showed different smiley faces and seemingly random emojis. It froze on an eggplant as the newest song started to crescendo.

“Lucky us! Mr. Man-Pain decided to come out and have some fun tonight.” Iron Man pointed a gloved hand at him and a spotlight shone down on Bucky. “What’s up, Summer Soldier in the house!” The beat dropped and the crowd screamed. No matter how much the mask modulated his voice, Bucky could hear how smug this punk was. The eggplant emoji turned into a sun wearing sunglasses, followed by a very animated laughing face. Finally, a gif played on the little screen, from that mockumentary where the dial goes up to eleven. It didn’t seem possible but the ‘music’ got louder.

Various fans tried to get Bucky to dance with them, but how anyone could dance to this noise, Bucky had no idea. He ducked out of the light and away from the crowds. The festival was far from winding down, it was only midnight, but even bands half way across the grounds were being drowned out by the sound of Iron Man. Slipping past the furthest stages, Bucky made his way to the festival management office.

* * *

“Really? You really snitched on me?”

Iron Man was much shorter in person than Bucky expected. Off stage and away from his mix board, he must have had at least three or four inches over him. Bucky almost wished they had done the KISS tribute for their set today, just to be even taller in his platform heels.

“I didn’t snitch,” Bucky said mildly, going back to tending to his guitar. He was still feeling good after their third set of the festival, but his instruments couldn’t keep up. “You were interfering with our performance. I just wanted to make you aware of that.”

“Then come tell me yourself! Don’t bitch about it to Fury!” His display screen was a red greater than symbol followed by a red less than symbol. Bucky didn’t bother to hide his laughter. The modulated voice made Iron Man sound like a rodent blended into a sound mixer. Just like his music, Bucky supposed. Who did this punk think he was, anyway? He didn’t start in a basement, like the rest of them, didn’t struggle as a nobody on YouTube for years.

“What’s it matter to you? It’s not like Fury can kick you out when Howard Stark is sponsoring both you and SHIELD Records.”

“He doesn’t sponsor me—“

“Go back to your laptop, shortstack, see if Garageband can’t teach you to make real music.” Bucky waved his hand dismissively and heard as camera snap in the distance. Good, a Twitter feud is exactly the kind of PR boost the Winter Soldiers needed right now.

For a second, Bucky was grateful for the silence that followed, but quickly became unnerved by it. Iron Man was never speechless, not when fans were screaming his name, not when E! News was insulting him to his face. If Iron Man had any reaction at all to what Bucky said, it wasn’t projected onto his display face. The angry red eyes blinked away and the void was weird to look at. The silence dragged on, even weirder.

“Look, just keep it a few decibels lower and we’re good,” Bucky shrugged. It didn’t seem like an unreasonable request.

“Fine,” the mechanical voice ground out, face still emotionless. Without another word, he turned and walked away. More cameras flashed and Bucky turned his attention back to his guitar. He didn’t hear Iron Man whisper to his tech supervisor, “I want their new single.”

A thumbs up emoji flashed across the War Machine helmet. “I already got it.”

* * *

Iron Man doesn’t perform that night. He doesn’t go on the next day either, hosting guest artists to keep the stage warm. Bucky can’t help being smug about it. If he screamed a little louder, played a little harder, his bandmates certainly weren’t complaining that the overcommitment.

As the third night of the festival began, Bucky still didn’t see Iron Man’s signature light show blazing across the night sky. “Alright, alright, alright,” Bucky crooned into the microphone and the audience fell into a hush. He lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross legged on the stage. “Let’s just slow it down, just for a second. I want to take you all back, to one of my favorite songs from our first year as a band.”

The cheering rose up, as dedicated fans realized what song Bucky was starting. Steve shot him a look, their last song was the final one they’d planned for the set tonight. But Natasha had already dashed out from behind her drums, walking back to Bucky with two acoustic guitars and joining him. Steve shrugged, unplugging his amp, and sat next to Sam.

He’d written this song with Natasha when they were both just turning 18. The world was at the doorstep, waiting for them to rush out and see it all. It was terrifying, it was exciting, and it would have been lonely if she wasn’t by his side. Stevie dropped out of the army when he heard this song. Sam threw out his textbooks when he heard this song. This song started their band and made the next fifteen years of Bucky’s life a dream come true. And it all started with two softly playing guitars.

There was not supposed to be four guitars. There was not supposed to be an echo to their melodic chords and whispering voice. The audience singing along was fine, would normally make his voice crack and tears well up in his eyes, but that wasn’t what Bucky was hearing. No, there was not supposed to be an echo. Furious Music Fest was in the middle of New York state, no mountains for the sound to bounce off of, no busy streets to worry about drowning out.

The echo was coming from the darkened Iron Man stage.

Their ballad rose to a peak, and so did the lights across the way, flickering with each note. As Bucky and Natasha harmonized on the final word, as the crowd cheered, another noise was rising over it all.

Obviously a rock band didn’t release their heartfelt ballad first. The Winter Soldiers’ first hit single had been ‘a banger’ as the newer fans called it. That’s what had started playing across the way at the Iron Man stage.

The light show was suddenly blinding as Iron Man and War Machine screamed along to Bucky’s voice from over a decade ago. They danced across the stage and audiences from all over the festival were drawn to them. One Winter Soldier song faded into the next, mingling together in some Frankenstein of their life’s work. Sam actually got to his feet first, heading over to the other stage with the rest of their fans.

“Where are you going?” Bucky called after him.

“The man’s playing our music, might as well be a fan of myself.” Sam grinned, easy and kind, like he always was. Like he really thought there was no problem with what was happening. Like Iron Man wasn’t vandalizing their music.

Bucky scrambled to his feet and ran after him. Sam was lost to the crowd, but Bucky pushed forward until he was at the front of the stage. This time, Iron Man didn’t notice him. He and the War Machine were air guitaring at each other, too absorbed in themselves and Bucky wanted to scream.

So he did.

Unfortunately, the recording of one of their newer songs was also screaming and his voice was lost. If Iron Man heard him, he didn’t pay him any attention.

The melody’s beat dropped and the song changed again. Somehow, these idiots had gotten a copy of their song debut from the first night of the festival. Bucky couldn’t imagine how- they hadn’t even done that song in a studio yet!

That was more than Bucky could take. He rushed the stage. Steve was going to give him shit for decking a security guard, but Bucky didn’t care. He managed to get up there, past the question marks appearing on Iron Man’s mask, but War Machine stood in front of him before he could slam his fist into the laptop controlling the concert.

“I don’t think you want to do that.” His helmet was blank, but Bucky knew a threat when he heard one.

“Those are my goddamn songs,” Bucky snarled.

“And this is my goddamn equipment, so either get off the stage or I will get you off the stage.”

“Hey!” Iron Man’s mask was alight now, rapidly cycling through colors in a firework-like display. His voice echoed through the crowd. “Man of the hour, up on stage with us. Give a hand for Bucky Barnes, front runner of the Winter Soldiers!”

The crowd nearly drowned out the techno-bastardization of his newest song. Bucky was frozen. There was a lot he was willing to get caught doing in front of the paparazzi, but he couldn’t bring himself to punch out Iron Man in front of his fans. It was still tempting, though.

Iron Man’s display quickly changed to a drained battery. “Uh oh, I think I need to head back and recharge. War Machine, keep the party rolling?”

The delay was slight, but enough that Bucky was sure some sort of conversation was happening between the two of them. Finally, War Machine’s mask lit up in the same colorful display Iron Man had on before. “Rolling? Iron Man, when you get back this party is going to be in the stratosphere!”

He stepped behind the DJ booth and the audio thrummed a few times, stage lights matching, until The Winter Soldier’s “Stratoblast” was playing. Not their most popular song, actually. It had been a pet project of Steve’s; Bucky was surprised Iron Man even knew it existed.

A metal hand wrapped around his elbow, pulling him off the stage. Iron Man’s mask was blank again. They descended the few steps to the soft grass that covered the festival, quickly darting behind the massive screen of lights that they performed in front of. A woman was waiting back there. She had a cellphone in hand, seemed to be expecting them. A security guard with a new black eye was splayed over a couch and Bucky at least felt a little bad about that.

Before he could apologize, Iron Man was standing in front of him. No, Iron Man was a helmet that was under the arm of the person standing in front of him.

“What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t sound much different, voice unmodulated. He looked younger like this. Though Bucky knew Iron Man wasn’t more than a few years younger than himself, it still felt like he was about to get into a fight with Justin Bieber.

“Those are my songs.”

The man behind the mask barked out a laugh. “They definitely were not. See, because people were dancing and singing along, they were my songs.”

“They’re copyrighted, you little shit.” Bucky took a step closer, looming over, but Iron Man didn’t flinch. “I’ll sue.”

“Parody law, baby,” he sneered up at Bucky. “You really want to go up against my lawyers?”

The woman stepped forward now, phone still in hand. She tilts her head towards a collection of fans who’ve snuck backstage. While Iron Man puts his mask back on and waves, she focuses her attention on Bucky. “Mr. Barnes, are we going to have a problem.”

“You’re his manager. Miss Potts, right?”

“You’ve done your homework.” She arched a brow, leaning back into her black and red heels. “But that doesn’t impress me, Mr. Barnes.”

“Ma’am, I’m not okay with him using my music.”

“What Iron Man does creativity is largely not in my control, Mr. Barnes. Nor is it in yours.”

“I’m trying to be civil--”  
“I don’t think punching our security detail was very civil.” She gestured to the man on the couch and he raised his hand away from the ice pack on his face to flip Bucky off. That was fair, he supposed.

Iron Man returned from his fan and stepped between Bucky and Miss Potts. “Pep, I’ve got this. Soldier, I think we can work this out somewhere a little more private.” His display screen drew an arrow to the left and Bucky looked to see an RV with Iron Man’s logo emblazoned on the side.

“Tony…” Miss Potts cautioned, but Iron Man waved her off.

“Trust me, Pep. Frostbite here isn’t nearly as icy as he appears.” A wink emoji flashed across the screen and Bucky would gladly go anywhere to get that stupid mask off him.

“Fine,” he ground out and Iron Man led him into the tour van. It was just as tech-laced as Bucky expected; screens on most flat surfaces, LEDs lining the walls and ceiling. Even the steering system looks high tech, like a robot drove Iron Man around.

The rest of it, however, was surprisingly similar to the layout of Bucky’s own van. Where the Winter Soldiers had bunk beds, Iron Man and his team had desks with computers whirring nearly as loud as the concert outside. It was on one of these desks that Tony dropped off his helmet. The docking unit lit up around it, because of course Iron Man needed more flash and bang to his performance, even off stage. Bucky didn’t waste any more time, crowding Tony up against that desk.

“So what exactly was your plan, kid? I tell you to quiet down and you think I wont notice you stealing my music?”

Tony didn’t flinch at the violation of his personal space. If anything, he smiled. His whiskey brown eyes burned with what Bucky assumed was lust for a fight. “It’s not stealing if I make the music better.”

“That noise you blast out for your drugged-up fans is not music!”

His smile disappeared. “Watch your fucking mouth talking about my fans.”

“Oh I’m sorry, it’s not their fault, is it? They can’t help needing something to dull the pain of listening to you fuck your own harddrive.”

“And I’m sorry all your fans are either old men going through a bad divorce, or angsty middle schoolers experiencing an emotion for the first time, but I didn’t come onto your stage and give you shit about it!”

“You have no idea what good music is, do you?”

“No, not today I don’t,” Tony laughed, “since I’ve been stuck listening to you whine through my headphones all day.” He started to sing a few bars of the Winter Soldiers’ first hit and Bucky was pushed over the edge.

He grabbed the collar of Tony’s shirt, dragging him to the other side of RV and slamming him into the doorframe that separated the office space from a final room. He pressed the full weight of his body against him, whispering harshly in his ear. “Keep my words out of your fucking mouth.”

Tony laughed again, heavier this time. “This fucking mouth can do a lot more than sing, Soldier.”

Maybe Bucky had pressed too close against him. Instead of intimidating Iron Man, he seemed to have a different effect on him.

“Listen, rockstar, we could keep screaming at each other, or,” Tony rolled his hips forward and Bucky found that, whether it was the surprisingly attractive body under all the Iron Man armor or just the thrill of a fight, he was starting to feel the same. “We could find another way to vent out these frustrations.”

A still-gauntleted hand reached behind Bucky and opened the door at the back of the RV. Where the Winter Soldiers had a collection of old beanbags, Iron Man had a massive bed. It filled the entire space, reaching windows covered in blackout curtains. Wine red velvet was draped across it, looking both incredibly soft and outlandishly expensive.

Bucky let out a low wolf whistle and Tony looked up from unlatching the last piece of ‘armor’ on his wrist. He watched Bucky’s eyes dart between the bed, the lack of other beds, and him. “Don’t,” Tony warned.

“So the Twitter rumors are true, huh? You and your team?”

“Pretty impressive for someone your age to know how to use Twitter,” Tony bit back. Without his mask, Tony’s expressions were somehow more difficult to read. Some emotion flash over his eyes, something powerful, but Bucky wasn’t sure what it was.

His eyes narrow, regarding Tony one last time. “Are they okay with this?”

Tony scoffed, overly loud, eyes rolling and he closed the distance between him and Bucky. “Duh. What, all your trashy tabloids can’t decide which kind of whore I am this week?”

“At least they agree on what to call you,” Bucky sneered, reaching a hand up to grab Tony’s chin. “Lips like that? Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

Those lips pulled back, showing teeth, but whatever Tony wanted to say was swallowed by Bucky leaning down to kiss him. If it could really be called a kiss, that is. It was a bite to Tony’s lower lip, followed with more biting, teeth clashing together as the two of them started clawing at each other’s clothes.

“Are you wearing a straight jacket on stage, what the fuck are these clasps?” Tony snarled and Bucky heard fabric rip before his shirt was falling off his shoulders. In return, he took two fistfulls of Tony’s shirt and pulled it apart. “What the fuck!”

“You break my shit, I’ll break yours,” he said, tossing the shredded remains of Tony’s t-shirt to some other corner of the room.

Tony pushed at him and Bucky let himself fall backwards onto the luxurious, massive bed. He didn’t have a chance to even bounce against the mattress before Tony was crawling on top of him, crashing their lips together again. Bucky’s attempts to flip them over were met with a hand in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him gasp. Tony just took his open mouth as an invitation to push his tongue further inside. Bucky considered biting down on it. Grabbing two handfuls of Tony’s ass seemed like a better option, though.

Immediately, Tony arched back into the touch. That was enough distraction for Bucky to turn them over, breaking away from Tony’s mouth to bite down his neck. “Fuck,” Tony moaned under him and Bucky smiled against his skin. “Don’t, uh, don’t leave any marks my shirt can’t hide.”

Bucky laughed and sucked a large bruise right along Tony’s collarbone. “Fuck!” Tony grabbed his hair again, yanking him back up his body until he could bite at Bucky’s lip again. The hand almost immediately left his hair, reaching for something in a drawer next to the bed.

“So,” he pushed away from Bucky, sliding up the bed. He held up a bottle of lube before tossing it to Bucky. “How do you wanna do this?”

With nothing within reach to bite at, Bucky focused his attention on shimmying out of his jeans. When he looked at Tony again, he’d stripped the rest of the way down too. “I think you’re going to get yourself ready for me,” Bucky tossed the lube back at Tony, “and I’m going to watch.”

Color flooded Tony’s face. He stared up at Bucky, frozen for a second, before smirking again. “Oh, a show on stage wasn’t enough for you? Such a big fan you need a private event?”

“The more you talk, the less time I’m going to wait before coming over there and--”

“No, shut up,” he flicked open the cap on the lube, pouring a generous amount on his fingers. “If I’m not talking, I don’t want to hear your poor attempts at dirty talk.”

“Fine.”

“Great.” The reply was cut off with another low moan as Tony pushed inside himself. He started slow, working himself open with just one finger. Bucky bit his own already bruised lip at the sight. Tony was compact, all lean muscle that flexed as he contorted himself. It was hard not to say anything about how eagerly he took just that little bit of stretching. He added a second finger, head thrown back against the pillows, and that was too much. Bucky licked his own palm and slicked himself up.

“Don’t be gross,” Tony must have heard him, blinding throwing the bottle of lube at him again. Bucky managed to catch it, but only barely.

“I don’t need this,” He dropped the bottle to the ground, but reached into his discarded jeans for a condom. “You think I can’t see how sloppy you’ve made yourself for me? I’m going to slide in like--”

“What did I say about shutting the fuck up?” Either stretched enough or impatient enough, Bucky didn’t care which, Tony pulled his fingers out. He moved across the bed, grabbing Bucky’s hair again and dragging him down. Bucky barely got the condom on before Tony was straddling his hips and taking Bucky’s cock in his own hand.

“Going to slide into me,” he sneered, “yeah right. I’m not about to let some edgelord with a bad haircut fuck me. Don’t you know who I am?”

“You’re a spoiled little shit.” Tony squeezed him and Bucky’s words melted down into that single touch. He put his hands on Tony’s hips, but Tony slapped him away.

Bucky thought Tony was going to slide down him all at once, with how quickly they’d started, but he slowed to a crawl with just the tip of Bucky’s cock inside him. His hand was almost a vice around the rest of Bucky. It felt so good, too hot and too tight, and not nearly enough. Tony placed both hands on Bucky’s chest, trying to keep his balance. His legs shook with the same frequency that Bucky felt throughout his own body. All movement nearly stopped, Tony panting for breath. Bucky’s hands didn’t dare reach for his hips again. He grabbed a fistful of the velvet duvet, trying to hold back. Tony moved another centimeter, biting his lip and actually whimpering.

“Are you--”

“Don’t,” Tony grit out, eyes unclouding into a burning focus on Bucky again. “If you think for a second that your cock is something special, something I can’t handle, then you’re stupider than you look.”

“Stupid enough to do this?” He bucked his hips up, thrusting all the way into Tony. The hands on his chest clawed down his stomach, but the sound Tony made was so much better than the music Iron Man made.

“Fuck!” Tony gasp. He rolled his hips up, almost on instinct, before slamming back down onto Bucky. “God fucking damnit, fuck you.”

“Nothing special about my cock, huh?” Bucky still didn’t put his hands on Tony’s hips. Instead, he grabbed Tony’s ass, spreading him further. He pulled Tony up, just enough, before dropping him down again.

“Stop talking.” Tony moved up, more intentionally that before, and slid down on his own accord. After one more rock of his hips, he set a brutal pace, leaving Bucky breathless by the time Tony bent down to bite at his lips.

For a moment, they were harmonizing. Tony rode him and Bucky thrust up, matching that pace no matter how brutal it was. Their kiss, violent as it still was, brought its’ own baseline, thrumming against the sounds that escaped them. Their rhythm went faster and faster until Tony pulled away from Bucky’s mouth, gasping for air, hands scrambling across Bucky’s stomach. Bucky could almost hear Tony’s knees protesting, but he tried to keep going. He couldn’t quite move as far, getting only halfway off Bucky’s cock before letting gravity do the rest. And sure, Bucky wanted to come, but this was more fun to watch.

“Are you,” Tony panted, “like this with everyone you fuck?” The word broke off into a whine. He couldn’t even lift his hips anymore, just rutting circles down on Bucky.

Bucky grinned. “If you want help, you gotta ask nicely.”

“Go to hell!”

“Only to see you there, doll.” His arousal won out against his amusement and Bucky dared to put his hands back on Tony’s hips. Tony visibly grit his teeth, but let him. He didn’t weigh that much. And the sound he made, as Bucky took him completely off his cock before thrusting back up into him, was the kind of noise Bucky wanted to sample for his next single. He had to hear it again. And again and again until Tony was screaming his name.

“Barnes, don’t you dare stop!” He snarled, taking his own cock in hand for a few short strokes before splattering Bucky’s chest with white. He clenched around him and Bucky could have come right then, but he held off, just for a second. Just until Tony’s eyes rolled back to look at him. He was dazed, hazy in the aftermath, but lucid enough to glare. Bucky fucked into him again and the glare melted into something almost helpless as Tony mewled at the overstimulation. That sound sent Bucky over the edge.

By the time he was coming back to himself, Tony was already getting dressed. He bent to pick up his jeans and Bucky whistled at the fingerprint bruises on his ass. “Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave.”

“Asshole,” Tony grumbled, but the heat behind it was weaker than it was before. He pulled on a new shirt, one that wasn’t ripped in half, and turned to face Bucky. He would have felt self conscious about being naked if he wasn’t too stubborn to let that happen. “Love to stay for round two, but I do have a show to finish. Should I be calling my lawyer?”

Bucky blinked. “What?”

“About your shitty music that I fixed.”

Right, that was how they ended up here. Bucky rolled his eyes and got off the bed. “I think we were able to deal with that copyright concern ourselves.”

Tony laughed. Not the snarled sound from before, but something bright and genuinely joyful. Bucky almost found himself grinning in return. Instead, he focused on looking for his pants. The denim hit his face with more force than he expected. He cursed but Tony barely heard, still laughing as he grabbed his gauntlets.

“Still got a few more days of the festival left. Should I be expecting you in the audience again?”

“No.”

“I can talk to Pep, fans like you deserve a backstage pass.” He shimmed his hips and laughed at his own joke and Bucky was furious all over again. With a fist leaving dents in the wrist gauntlet, he crowded Tony against the wall of the RV one more time. It wasn’t easy to kiss someone who was laughing, but he bit and licked until the laughter turned to breathless moans again.

“Iron Man,” he whispered against Tony’s lips, “I hope to never hear you again.”

“Better throw out your radio then, Bucky Barnes,” Tony didn’t seem phased, “Because I’m the biggest star in the world right now.”

He gave one last bite to Bucky’s lips, before sliding away and grabbing his helmet before slamming the RV door behind him.

“Seems like you had a good time,” James Rhodes was sitting somewhere outside the RV, Bucky could hear him as he grabbed the last of his scattered things. “You do know we were kind of in the middle of something.”

“I just fucked Bucky Barnes,” Tony said his name differently now, like he had stars in his eyes instead of acid on his tongue. Rhodes scoffed.

“Am I supposed to congratulate you?”

“Yes! Come on, platypus, a decade ago you would have been jealous.” Tony was putting on his other gauntlet as he talked. Guess he wasn’t just talking a big game when he said he was going back on stage.

“I’m jealous of someone, that’s for sure.” Rhodes leaned in, stealing a kiss from Tony’s swollen lips. “You never let me fuck you on break from a set.”

“Hmm,” Tony purred into the kiss, “ask nicely and I’ll let you join us next time he comes over to bitch at me for copyright infringement.”

He laughed, handing Tony his helmet before putting on his own. The LED screen winked and Tony laughed again, bright and bubbly. “Come on,” War Machine’s modulated voice was still loud enough for Bucky to hear before the two of them went back on stage.

Tony seemed pretty sure about there being a next time. Then again, Bucky considered as he stole a new shirt from one of the duffle bags labelled with War Machine’s colors, he was pretty sure this ‘direct reprimand’ wouldn’t be enough to stop Iron Man before the festival was over. The very next night, when his own music blasted at him from across the way, Bucky at least waited until the set was over before returning to Iron Man’s backstage.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been to a music festival, please don't @ me.
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://magpiewords.tumblr.com)


End file.
